


“Ever heard of hotgluing?”

by Otterly



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, I'm sorry Zhan, These aren't my OCs they're Zhan's he's a good boy give him head pats and sugarcubes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 12:59:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11806485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otterly/pseuds/Otterly
Summary: Melody does something completely innocent and clean and everyone is happy afterwardsShe does not cover herself in cum.The cum is not Stan's.





	“Ever heard of hotgluing?”

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so Zhan (a real life horse that has been trained to use a tablet and computers) has these characters -- The Little Hustlers. Basically they're homeless in Zootopia and they chill and hustle and stuff. Check em out sometime: https://zhanbao.tumblr.com/tagged/little-hustlers
> 
> Anyway this story deals with Melody and Stan being exemplary catholics here's some little bits about their characters (which I have graciously stolen from Zhan's tumblr)
> 
> *Melody Micely, field mouse, 17 years old. Ran away from home and ended up on the streets, and later with Stan. Forms an inseparable duo with Rosie, and plays the (littler) bigger sister. Skilled at pickpocketing, spotting easy marks, and hiding in unusual places. Has a more cynical outlook, rough and ready, and never backs down from a fight if she can help it.
> 
>  
> 
> *Stan, arctic wolf, mid-fifties. Used to have a good life and four healthy limbs. Cares for Melody and Rosie in between bouts of drinking. Lives off odd jobs, begging, and selling “Zoo Issue” magazine. Tries not to think too hard about the consequences of the duo’s hustling.
> 
> (Melody's 18 in this story though) 
> 
> Enjoy

In the winter of 2016, Melody found that the back alley behind Bombastic Billy’s Bizarre Burger Bazaar brought good luck to her, whenever she happened to do her business there. Or…so she thought. When she brought this theory back to Stan and Rosie (who was having a bad day at the time) they did not concur. Apparently “luck” wasn’t a “thing” for them. And whether “them” meant thieves or vagrants, Melody saw the logic behind their disagreement.

She was inclined to disagree herself. It was usually Rosie who had brought up such sentiments, but one could not deny empirical evidence.

 _Whenever_ she had done  _anything_ in that alley, it had worked out for her in a ridiculously lucky way.

So here they were! At the back alley behind Bombastic Billy’s Bizarre Burger Bazaar in an attempt for Melody to prove her luck theory correct. Rosie was off doing something somewhere — she’d be fine. Stan, however, had the mouse in his sights as he sat on the ground against the dumpster. Not really, though. While she stretched and surveyed the passersby he seemed to be breathing a little ragged. It was actually a little worrying.

“You alright?” Melody called, not being able to take another second of shaky exhales coming from her (second) bestest pal in the entire world. “Need a blanket? There’s a stall for those over on the next street. We could find Rosie—“

“It’s not the cold,” Stan interrupted. Only now Melody noticed the state of his only set of fingers — they were totally restless. Grabbing and pawing at his own shirt like he was really itchy or something. “It’s…no. Don’t worry about it. Hey, didn’t we come here to have your good luck charm work?”

Deflection. Such a useful strategy when lying to the police, and lying to others, and avoiding uncomfortable conversation topics. It fit Stan like a very small pair of shorts that were covered in neon embroidery that also glowed in the dark and were reflective. They were loud, loud shorts. Melody could hear them from a mile away.

“You’re deflecting,” she observed as she scampered over to the wolf. “Something’s wrong.”

“Is that a, uh, new shirt?” Stan asked, staring at a pile of empty beer cans.

“No. I’ve had the same shirt on for two weeks,” Melody answered dryly. She took the opportunity to run up the wolf’s outstretched legs, taking a seat on his thighs which were — wow they were really quite warm, weren’t they? Her tiny paws swiped at the muscle underneath her until Stan finally brought his gaze to her concerned, clever eyes. “Are you okay? Sick? I thought we weren’t lying to each other.”

“I’m not _lying_! I—“ He looked away again.

“You’re in heat.”

“No. Yes! What? No. It’s _season_  but that guys don’t—”

“That means you need help, though, right? All those smells in the air.”

It’s worth mentioning at this point that Bombastic Billy’s Bizarre Burger Bazaar was a proud family business, established fifty years ago when Billy (whose nickname was, as you can guess, Bombastic) Bouvier decided that there were not enough establishments catered specifically for his kind of mammal. It had grown since then, and was now a leader in its genre of food across the city.

That genre of food was of the bug variety, and Billy was a wolf. And each day of the fifty years, the burger joint was frequented by wolves of all ages.

It was also season, as Stan had mentioned earlier.

When Stan looked back, Melody was standing upright. She had travelled from the middle of his quad to his hips, getting as close as she could to his crotch without actually standing on it. Her paw held onto his shirt as he stared at the bulge she hadn’t noticed before thanks to some cozy black sweatpants they’d happened upon a few nights prior. She looked up at him, eyes no longer concerned but still clever and very glazed. “I can smell it. It’s all I can really breathe, actually. You’re so brave. And strong, Stan. It’s probably terrible.”

And like it had a penchant for attention, his cock twitched, begging for release from it’s fabric prison. Stan pretended not to notice as he addressed her astute observations. “I’m alright, thanks. It’s just — heat season is a strong one. And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Melody said. “Actually, you smell amazing.”

She wasn’t lying. To be in such a humid environment in the middle of such a cold winter…it was a treat. A super delicious treat that she could never afford because of all the mousetraps in the candy store it was being sold at. She could barely feel herself breathing but she really didn’t care. God, who _knew_ , right? Who knew that someone could smell so _good_  and musky and if this was all she could breathe for the rest of her life she wasn’t complaining at all because—

Stan’s brain did not know what to do with the mouse girl burying herself in his crotch, sniffing and huffing like she was a primed bitch ready to be bred. Melody was like a daughter to him.

Oh shit, but she was also legal. Her eighteenth birthday was a few months ago.

And she wasn't of his own blood.

Quite attractive, too. Beautiful for a mouse. A beautiful mouse.

At some point, his daughter-but-not-actually had gained lucidity again and was about to apologize when she noticed her wolf friend was completely checked out of reality. Something under her rose suddenly, and she wobbled about before regaining her balance again. She took note of the fact that it was his cock, and _that_  was probably the only part of his body that wasn’t on the moon right now.

What to do…what to do…

There was a problem here. Stan was horny and that was, to many canines, another word for torture unless they could achieve some form of release. He’d probably be out of order for the rest of the day if nothing could help him out. He needed something. Something warm, wet and able to get him off.

Something that was extremely hard to get, that Rosie could not give him, and that she was too small to offer.

And then, like many other times in her charming, adventurous life, Melody had an idea.

Scurrying up the wolf’s shirt, she found an even perch at his shoulder and gave it an even bite.

Stan twitched, jolted back into awareness as he looked around. “M—Melody?”

“Right here, big guy,” she responded, petting his cheek affectionately. “Hey, I think I know what to do about all of this, but I’m gonna need you to move, okay?”

“Wh—I don’t need to “take care of it”, Mel. Don’t worry.”

Stubborn little puppy. Melody knew how to take care of that. She hugged the side of his head tight, tilting her head up so her tiny voice would be easier to hear against the middling crowd of people nearby. “You’re saying that you _don’t_  need to drain that cock right this second? You don’t want to cum nice and hard, and let me watch those huge balls empty themselves? Because I think you’d be lying, Stan. I think you _do_  want to paw yourself off, but you haven’t been able to because you’ve been busy watching out for us. But you know what? I want to let you. I wanna see that hard dick squirt some nice, thick ropes of wolf jizz and then I want to _roll around in it_.”

Heat spread across Stan’s cheeks. She could tell that it was spreading because she could feel it, and see it underneath all that scruffy fur. A quick glance downward revealed that he was as hard as ever, even soaking a little spot of pre through his sweats.

That wouldn’t do.

“So am I right,” Melody breathed, grinding herself against his head. “Or am I right?”

Stan shot upwards, which was dangerous and could have almost knocked her off. Fortunately though, she had a tight grip on his fur so the whole ordeal felt more like a really fast elevator.

“Where to?” he asked, breathing sporadic.

“You see that gap in the wall there? It’s super deep. No one’ll…disturb us there,” she instructed. “Don’t worry, Stan. It’ll be okay.”

Her paws pet him affectionately. “I’ll take care of you.”

The two made their way to the gap and turned into it. Melody wasn’t lying when she said it was deep — there had to be at least twenty feet of nothing carved into the side of this building. No doors, no windows. No cameras or other mammals to be watching them.

It was perfect.

They were ten feet into the gap when Melody signalled to stop.

“This should be good. We _probably_  won’t be seen. Take off your beanie,” she commanded gently. “Lay it against the ground and kneel in front of it.”

Stan did as he was told, gently helping her onto the beanie when it was set down, making a makeshift bed of sorts as she laid back. Soon after that, he kneeled. The whole reminded Melody of church, which was funny because what they were about to do would probably condemn them from both the local canine and rodent congregations.

“Mel, this is stupid,” Stan attempted to object. His eyes darted around and he looked back every five seconds, looking for peering eyes that did not exist. “I’m not doing this. We’d get caught.”

“If that’s the only thing you’re objecting to, I know you’ve already made up your mind,” Melody coyly countered. “Now off with your pants, big guy.”

Blushing brightly, the older mammal tried to find some grounds onto which he should objects. He had been married — though he didn’t feel much love left for his former wife. He didn’t need it — no, he really needed it. She was like a daughter to him! But he went by that earlier — she was beautiful and not blood related.

Stan knew, deep down, that they wouldn’t get caught. Melody knew this particular street inside and out, and could talk her way out of anything even if someone _did_  catch them. She was good luck like that.

And so, with faked reservation that he desperately wanted to be real, he undid the knot with which he kept his pants fastened to his hips, and them down along with his underwear. Freed at last, his hard, tensed cock stood at attention. It was six inches — around average for a normal wolf — but to Melody it was absolutely huge.

Something within her awoke. She was getting wetter with each second.

“Ever heard of hotgluing?” Her shorts slipped off with ease. Her shirt was next, baring her flat chest for him.

“Not really,” Stan replied, confused and distracted by her little show. “What? Is that a position?”

Melody ran a paw over her head as she slithered the other down her slender body, making way for her panties which she took off with an agonizing slowness that prompted Stan to grab hold of his cock in anticipation. “The word itself isn’t important, but it’s kind of like a principal for rodents and sex with bigger mammals. The basic idea being this—“

The mouse spread herself for him, massaging her lips around, signalling for him to begin stroking.

“If I can’t give you my pussy,” she purred, feeling herself cross the threshold that every mammal had in their minds. The one that stood on the edge of civilized mammal and brought them to their roots — turned them into animals. She spread her legs further, lying back and rubbing herself in slow, deliberate movements. “If I can’t help you feel better with my body at the very least I can be your _target_.”

The wolf above her turned as red as his member. “Oh.”

“Oh, indeed. Now could you ‘oh’ all over me, please? And by that I mean start stroking,” Melody giggled as she dipped a finger into herself, slowly pushing it through her soaking folds so as to get as much audible noise out of the act for Stan to hear. “Mmm! Been a little too long since I’ve — you know, ‘touched myself’.”

“Has it?” Stan breathed shakily, following her earlier command. His paws glided over his cock, teasing out trickles of pre as he slowly lathered himself up.

“Not really.”

The mouse’s giggle was interrupted by herself — she bit her lip reflexively as a moan almost escaped her, immediately regretting it. Wasn’t she putting on a show for her friend? What was she doing holding back? She forced herself to somehow relax more than she already had, grinding her entire back into Stan’s toque and letting her fingers pick up the pace. Her mouth opened on reflex. Small, weak moans injected with need rose quietly from her mouth.

 _God_. How could a hot blooded male resist? Stan stroked himself with a sudden fire in his chest, pulsing and twitching in his own paw, completely overtaken at the sight of Melody drinking in the pleasure she was bringing to herself. He forced himself to keep a normal breathing rhythm. Her scent was heavy in the air despite being so small. Her toes curled up and stretched out on an endless loop. Every so often she’d mewl cutely, whenever she hit a spot within herself that was especially sensitive.

“Oh shit,” Stan managed to say, paw beginning to blur. His eyes were wide. He didn’t dare blink, lest he miss the glimpse of heaven shining brightly in front of him. Phrases and remarks he wanted to say felt impossible to express, melting into short groans and sharp breaths as he slowly but surely lost his mind.

Each finger left a different, new and fleeting sensation on his cock as they travelled its full length, up and down and over again. Pre was dribbling almost endlessly now. It made his paws damp and it smelled lightly of his musk — though for Melody it must have been overwhelming.

And it was. Down on the wolf’s own winter hat, Melody squeaked and squealed in delight. Her fingers slipped into her pussy and out of it, drenching them in her own natural lubrication. Every breath she took was filled with nothing but the endless scent of Stan’s pre and she never, _ever_  wanted it to end. As time went on, her back started to quiver. Her legs followed soon after that, and after that followed her shoulders.

“Nnn, ah, w—wow,” she exhaled, letting herself speak coherently for the first time in many minutes. Her hips began to float upward on their own accord in an attempt to make her fingers sink in deeper. “I — It’s been a while since I’ve felt so — hhh, fffuck…”

“Language,” Stan chided automatically.

Melody’s right eye snapped open and looked up at the wolf. He was panting — like, literally panting — so heavily that she was tempted to ask if he needed water, and his dick in his paws twitches and leaked as he jerked off vigorously to the sight of her own masturbation. She went to say something —

—But was interrupted by something landing next to her. She turned her head, gasping as soon as she saw what it was.

A few bigger drizzles of pre had coalesced into a great, big, puddle right beside her, quickly sinking into the woven braids of fabric that made up the hat. A sort of hunger burned in Melody’s heart in that instant. It drove her to please and to impress and make sure that Stan had the best image in front of him to bust that beautiful cock to. Thinking and not thinking, she rolled into the pre, slurping it up whilst it washed over her face and head, burying her face into the wet cotton as she raised her ass in the wolf’s general direction. Her tail hiked up, straight as a pencil, giving Stan a perfect view as the little mouse shovelled his own pre into her pussy like it would grant her eternal life and make her rich for all days to come.

“Grrrhk, _mmm_ , ah!” he cried incomprehensibly. He could hardly do anything but stroke his dick. He fucked his hand ferally, growling and moaning with the kind of desperation that only a mammal on the edge of orgasm could have. Underneath him, his friend purred in approval.

Then the heat in his groin overwhelmed him. He came with a distinctly canine yelp, immediately biting down on his lip as his cock shot thick strings of doggy jizz onto the mouse on his beanie.

The first shot of cum hit the bullseye, immediately crashing into Melody’s spread pussy and covering the whole of her back. Its force made her squeal as she was almost knocked to her side, but she was given no time to recover. The second shot was less accurate — hitting her shoulders and soaking the rest of her head in the thick fluid. The third got back on the ball, hitting her pussy again and covering any part of her that wasn’t absolutely soaked in jizz. The fourth up to the seventh ropes of cum were just icing on the cake after that, and the eighth and ninth (unfortunately) barely had any impact, as the amount that had come out was significantly less that the previous waves.

Melody lay there breathing, as one was wont to do when alive and post orgasm, for an amount of time that did not register in her brain. She only knew that when she had calmed down enough, she wanted to speak. “I—ack!”

She was lifted unceremoniously to Stan’s lips. Before she could say anything, the first lick hit her, effectively cleaning her of cum and teasing her sensitive pussy.

“O—ah, ow, Stan…” she moaned weakly, too tired to protest.

“Sorry, he said quietly, not letting up. He licked her more, coating her in a light layer of his saliva but getting his own jizz out of her fur. His warm tongue licked at her a few more times before he turned her over and gave her back the same treatment. When she was finally clean of all traces of him, he set her down.

Melody shook the wolf saliva off her and glared up. “That’s a weird way to say ‘Thanks, Melody’.”

“Thanks, Melody,” Stan cooed. He zipped up and waited for his companion to dry herself off on his hat and get dressed before picking her up again (with fair warning this time!) and putting her on his shoulders. They walked to the entrance of the little urban cave they had taken refuge in, looking both ways to see if anyone had caught them. No one did.

A few seconds later, Stan cleared his throat. “So is this gonna — uh, well, is this gonna — like, gonna be a regular thing?”

“I don’t know, the mouse considered the idea. “Do you want it to be?”

“Kind of. I don’t know. Do you?”

“Dude, hell yeah.”

That brought a smile to both their faces. They took the moment to revel in each other’s company and warmth, feeling (not for the first time) thankful they they had each other out in the streets, in spite of the rest of the world’s indifference. They needed each other, and that need had spawned into such a deep, unspoken love that it was useless to even attempt at labelling it. Melody and Stan. Stan and Melody. Partners in crime. Also Rosie. Oh, right. Rosie.

“Okay let’s find Rosie.”

“Didn’t we need to pickpocket? Hustle? See if your good luck charm worked?”

“I think it worked just fine today, Stan,” Melody said, giving her ear a little kiss. She giggled when she felt it heat up as blood rushed to his face, giving it another kiss afterwards. “Now come on! I wanna see if Rosie finally stole that pizza guy’s shoes.”

“Why would you want a pair of horse shoes?”

“I thought they’d look funny on you.”


End file.
